East Blue, early morning.
Gentle sunlight spread over the blue sea. From time to time a seabird cried across the sky. A soft morning breeze skimmed the still-damp deck. It promised to be fine weather.
A warship flew a banner embroidered with four open hands, each palm marked with a single staring eye. The ship cut across these waters with Cocoyasi Village as its destination. On the second deck a white dog some four meters long sprawled, and Rody reclined against its pelt, a cup of watermelon juice in his hand. He watched the ocean ahead with a thoughtful expression.
Slaughter Value: 1.
Rody glanced at the Slaughter Value on his mental system. Yesterday he had killed many pirates. Apart from that first ten-million-bounty pirate, the system had not reacted to the later slayings. He frowned.
"Are they simply too weak?" he mused. "This damn system comes with no manual either. What good is a Slaughter Value if it never tells you anything?" He smirked and then shrugged. "Still, it makes things interesting."
The hatch of the cabin popped open. Nami appeared carrying a heavy sack bulging with jewels and gold. She tossed it onto the deck and brushed the dust from her hands. "Rody," she called across the white dog, "I found a lot of treasure aboard. Want to take a look? Anything you need, I'll keep safe."
"Not interested. Keep it," Rody answered lazily.
The sun slanted. Rody lay against the white dog and ran his hand across its head. On the horizon a stretch of coastline began to emerge.
"Nami, is that the place up ahead?" he asked.
Nami, reluctant to set down the treasure she had already counted more times than she cared to admit, hurried to the bow and peered out. Her brow knit. "Yes. If we sail around that shoal and head on a little farther we'll be there. But this area's got fish-men patrols."
No sooner had she spoken than a cartilaginous fish-man, his skin like chalked stone, leapt from the sea onto the deck. Seven or eight more followed, blades in hand, springing up with predatory ease.
"Kuroobi?" someone muttered.
Kuroobi sneered at the still-languid figure propped against the dog. Then he turned his attention to Nami. "Nami, so you've given up trying to buy Cocoyasi back. Do you really think this weak human can resist us noble fish-men?"
The other fish-men waved their swords and jeered. "Humans. Fish-men are born ten times stronger than you. How dare you resist? How could you ever hope to beat us?" they crowed. "We are noble fish-men!"
Nami stood on the deck, face pale and trembling, caught between panic and disbelief. Rody's left leg lay across his right. He smoothed his hand into a fist, elbow braced on the white dog's flank, face propped on his knuckles, and watched the fish-men with amused eyes.
"Seems that after fleeing with Arlong from the Grand Line to the East Blue, you've forgotten your past," Rody said. "You once were slaves and merchandise, were you not?"
Kuroobi's sneer twisted into a snarl. The fish-men who had been shouting fell momentarily silent. Nami looked to Rody with a flicker of hope.
Kuroobi clenched his fist, veins bulging in his arms. His face turned savage. "Good. Very good. Human, you have successfully angered me."
"Human, I will use our fish-man strength. I will break your mouth with fish-man karate, see if you still dare speak so, and then I will kill you. Kuroobi is a master of fish-man karate."
A chorus rose up among the fish-men. "Kuroobi's bounty is nine million Berries!" they cried. "Yes, Kuroobi the master fighter has a nine million bounty!"
Kuroobi coiled, muscles tightening. He bent his knees, powered both legs into the deck and lunged, shouting his technique, "Fish-man karate!"
Rody watched with the same playful disdain.
In an instant Kuroobi's head was severed from his neck. The headless torso ran two steps and collapsed with a sick thud. Blood spurted from the severed neck. The flying head skidded and rolled to Rody's feet, eyes glassy even as the mouth still tried to shout, "Ba…wa…town…" before the noise cut off. Red sprayed the planks.
[Slaughter Value +1]
"Hmm." Rody ignored the system's chirp for the moment.
He rose, grabbed the small topknot at the back of Kuroobi's scalp and lifted the head that had rolled to his feet. The skull was gray in hue but otherwise human in shape. The blood was the same red as any human's.
He glanced back at the corpse on the deck. The cartilaginous fish-man had pronounced piscine features along his body, though his skull carried fewer fishlike markers than his torso did.
Silence gripped the deck. The other fish-men stared wide-eyed at Kuroobi's headless corpse, hardly daring to breathe.
"No… no way, Kuroobi-sama," one whispered. "Kuroobi trained in fish-man karate. He's…he's dead like that?"
The crew watched Rody hold Kuroobi's head. Hatred, anger and an unmasked fear flared across their faces. A taller shark-type fish-man, broad shouldered, a shark's maw set in his face, forced his trembling hand to tighten on his blade. Veins stood out on his forearm from the force.
He raised his knife toward Rody's head-holding hand and barked, "Don't be afraid. Everyone, now. Kill that human. Avenge Kuroobi!"
The others exchanged glances, gripped their blades and surged.
Rody tossed Kuroobi's head back beside his body. He faced the charging fish-men. With a flick of his wrist he cut through them; all but the shark-type fish-man were split cleanly in two at the waist.
"F-fight… for Kuroobi!" the shark-type stammered through tears. He watched his comrades fall and finally could not hold his knife. It clattered to the deck.
Tears streamed down his face. His legs gave out and he sank to his knees, muttering, "H-how… how could this happen? Ev… everyone…"
Rody walked slowly to where the shark-type knelt. He looked down at the trembling, broken fish-man.
"Oh? Fish-man, did you still want to kill me?" Rody said coldly.